


First Times

by gokkyun



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 16:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7321648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gokkyun/pseuds/gokkyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love is easy. Falling out of love isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Times

**Author's Note:**

> So this got kinda out of hand? Ha ha ha ...
> 
> Okay so I just had a lot of thoughts about these two losers and the way they found their way into and out of each other's lives (haha good job guys) and I'm usually not one for fluff but this has a LOT of fluff in it imo. But also angst. And smut. And some Spanish, translations will be at the end but I don't really think you need them ... really. 
> 
> Aside from that, there's some mild swearing and mild violence as warnings, but nothing too bad. Well, enjoy and comments etc. appreciated!

It's hard to stand at attention when you've never done it once in a serious fashion in your whole damn life before. It's even harder considering the drill sergeant in front of you isn't exactly a ray of sunshine, showering the new recruits in his spit and looking ready to rip anyone who doesn't obey a new asshole. – These are just some of the thoughts ghosting through John “Jack” Morrison's mind right now. His father and long deceased grandfather had shown him how to stand properly at attention several times and yet it seems of little use right now, every coherent thought fleeing from Jack on his first day in the military base in Kokomo. He's hot all over and he's unsure whether the cause of this is yet another terribly humid summer in Indiana or if it's thanks to the sudden claustrophobic feeling of his uniform and the shoulders of the other new recruits next to him.

Jack feels like he's going numb already, not even twenty minutes into his first day. Wonderful. Trying to take his mind off, the young man's blue eyes start to wander. The drill instructor is barking gracious words of welcome, striding from one end of the line to the other like some kind of parade dog. Jack has to suppress a chuckle, biting down on his lower lip as his gaze travels further to distract himself from his distraction. Fucking wonderful. A man stands at attention behind the sergeant, perfectly so. It irritates Jack, the man's posture perfect with his arms fixed in a straight line at his side while his heels are pressing together, toes apart, with a facial expression so blank it's almost scary. 

Said man is tall and thoroughly fit, mahogany skin dark even in Indiana's bright morning sun. Fresh scars that cross his left and right cheek as well as some of his nose throw small shadows on his stern face that's graced with a thick beard and even thicker eyebrows, an odd contrast to the buzzcut. Jack doesn't know who he is but something about that guy irritates him – or at least that's what he feels like in his chest, in his stomach. But maybe it's the heat and the thought of messing up on his first day already. Or maybe both.

A shiver not caused by his fear of failing horribly suddenly shots through Jack. Its caused by the man he's been staring at that now returns his stare – he has strange eyes, a clear but deep brown that almost fades to black, something subtle and simple about them, but frightening as they seem to see right through Jack. 

Jack averts his gaze and shifts his weight from one foot to the other, happy that the drill instructor is currently honoring the other end of the line of recruits with his presence. 

It's the first time their eyes meet. As unpleasant as it might have been.

 

* * *

 

Not one to remember petty things and petty people much less so, Gabriel Reyes is rather surprised by himself that he remembers the recruit from a week back that had given him an odd stare. It all resurfaces back in Gabriel's mind when he brings the young man who is currently on KP duty a sack of potatoes, carelessly letting it drop to the ground. “Here's some more work for you, buddy,” Gabriel jokes as he recognizes the man's bright blond buzzcut and the pale skin, despite the young recruit not looking up. “Aren't you the guy who stared at me last week like I was some fuckin' alien?”

The man's head moves now, looking up and swallowing so loudly that even Gabriel can hear it. “Y-Yes, sir,” he stutters and focuses back to peeling the potato in his hand – or at least he tries to but fails miserably, the peeler slipping out of his hands with an almost silent curse following.

“What was that all about, blondie?” Gabriel continues as he puts his hands on his hips, feeling almost like he's interrogation the poor sod, grinning to himself for a second there. “You know what, I'll drop it – this time. Cause you sure as hell looks like you're about to bite off and swallow your goddamn tongue. But don't do shit like that again, not really a good way to friends around here. Name's Gabriel Reyes by the way."

“Y-Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” the man stammers as he picks the peeler back up, switching his gaze from the ground to Gabriel a few times, as if he's trying to recall his own name. “I’m John. John Morrison, sir. And – And I’m sorry for staring.” 

“Drop the sir, Jesus. I'm most likely older than you only by a hair and not even out of basic for that long,” Gabriel explains. “Why are you so nervous? Scared someone's gonna rip your head off or what?”

Morrison bites down on his lower lip, his eyes looking at everything but Gabriel. “I'm not used to be around people other than my family and people from my hometown. Especially not this many people at once. You see, my parents got a farm and I got too many damn siblings to take care of so –“

“Well, look at you. A blondie and a farmboy,” Gabriel interrupts John, whose lips form a little pout but he doesn't dare to protest, just quietly starts peeling the potato in his hands again. The younger man is pretty, although not very interesting to look at in Gabriel's opinion. Blue eyes, high cheekbones, bright blond hair that's barely visible thanks to the short military-standard haircut, with pale skin that's accompanied by a soft flush around the tip of his nose and ears as of right now. “But I get it. There's a big difference between coming from a damn farm like you do or from Los Angeles like I do.”

“Then why are you stationed here? I mean, uhm, Kokomo isn't exactly in LA's vicinity.”

“See these?” Gabriel points to the moderately fresh scars along his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, Morrison glancing up from his hands and for a moment there Gabriel's voice is stuck in his throat for the first time in forever, the other's blue eyes oddly alluring now that they're unmoving, giving Gabriel their unshared attention. To say that they are the ordinary blue of the sky or the soft blue of a calm ocean wouldn't be sufficient and whereas Gabriel would love to have yet another senseless discussion with himself, he shakes the thought off. Clearing his throat, he continues, Morrison patiently waiting for his words. “There was this guy at the base I was before, close to LA obviously. Apparently he had hated me or my guts or whoever the fuck knows what since we were in basic training together. Comes at me with a knife, scratches up my fuckin' face like this. Turns out, he's some rich and high-ranking asshole's son, so I either gotta quit or transfer to another base. So I got to this backwater base – no offense – and now they are trying to shape me into a drill sergeant while I run stupid errands for them. Great story, eh?” 

Morrison looks back at Gabriel like he had just told him his dog died or something equally as cruel – eyes wide and mouth a flat line. “I'm sorry to hear that,” he mutters before pausing himself for a second there, pondering. “But hey, now you're surrounded by corn with a chance of tornadoes. Isn't that something, too?” 

A soft grin crosses Gabriel's features. “Not bad for a bumpkin.” 

“It's not like it's hard to make a joke out of all the clichés stemming from Indiana. Heck, I'm from a farm. I'm a walking cliché,” Morrison shrugs, his hands ever busy with the potatoes, although his gaze doesn't shift away from Gabriel. “By the way, call me Jack.” A smile warmer than Indiana's sun and gentler than any words spoken to Gabriel in the past months cross Morrison's – Jack's – features and Gabriel decides Indiana isn't all that bad after all.

“Jack,” Gabriel repeats. 

“Nice to meet you too, Gabriel.”

It's the first time they say each other's name, let alone speak to each other. Odd and insignificant. At least it seems like it.

 

* * *

 

The ten weeks in the army's boot camp pass by quicker than Jack believed they would, in no small part to the company of other fellow recruits and one particular soldier that he spends the few free minutes they share with.

It's a couple of month after Jack's graduation that Gabriel pulls him aside, Jack giving him that confused face of his that makes him look like a kicked puppy. That expression gets even worse – or better, Gabriel isn't sure – when the older man introduces Jack to a man dressed in a black suit, looking as serious as one can be. Gabriel chuckles softly at the little noise Jack makes in the back of his throat when said man and him shake hands. 

The man tells the two men about something Gabriel already knew and got approved of from his superiors should they decide to take the offer – the soldier enhancement program.

“It's just a suggestion, you don't actually have to do it,” Gabriel explains hours after that short but significant meeting, the two of them sitting on the grass behind the barracks, clear night sky above them. “I'm not keen on waiting for another rich or racist or whatever asshole to destroy my path, so I'd rather take it into my own hands, that's why I signed up,” without caring for a full mouth, Gabriel bites into an apple he has been seemingly chewing on forever, “They asked me if I had any other recommendations for people to join 'n hey, who better than you?” 

Jack takes a deep breath, stealing the apple out of Gabriel's hand with a light grin. The older man gives him an offended look and a lopsided grin to boot, to which Jack laughs shortly; he has never been a fan of teasing people, not even his siblings, but something about teasing Gabriel is different. Actually, a lot of things are. “I appreciate the thought,” Jack stammers, “but you know, doesn't it kinda force you stay in the army then? They'll put shit tons of chemicals and probably even more money and only God knows what else into you, so they won't just let you off the hook if you ever want to leave.” And unlike Gabriel, Jack takes a bit off the apple after he's done speaking. But he guesses people from the city just don't have manners. 

A shrug is Gabriel's nonverbal answer, his verbal one following short. “I suppose so, but I don't see me being anything else than a soldier. You know about my family situation – my dead mom, my dick of a father and my sis who leads her own goddamn life, so I don't really have anywhere I wanna be but here.” Nudging his elbow into Jack's side, Gabriel continues. “And you don't seem to be that put off by a life in the army either. With me as your charming companion.”

Without as much as a warning Jack spits out the pieces of apple he was chewing on, inadvertently snorting at the same time. He uses his free hand to cover his mouth with embarrassment and looks at Gabriel with crinkled eyes, unable to stop the small fits of laughter escaping his mouth. “If we use charming as an synonym for bitchy, then I guess you're right,” the younger many finally jokes in return, clearing his throat as he notices how hoarse his voice is. “But in all seriousness, I think it's a good idea. My parents didn't have the money to send me to college, that's why I went to the army to begin with – well, that and because my father would've otherwise called me words I'd rather not have him associate with me. And to be honest, a life like this or as enhanced soldier or whatever the heck this guy called it seems better than, I don't fucking know, selling corn.” Jack then holds up his index-finger. “One condition though. You'll have to teach me Spanish. I'm so tired of not understanding whatever the heck it is you're throwing at me.”

"Ya quisieras, guapetón." 

Jack pouts. Gabriel grins. "I hope for you that meant yes."

It's the first decision they make together. A decision they'll both regret in hindsight but that neither of them would change if they had the choice.

 

* * *

 

Neither of them could've imagined or prepared for the things they went through during the soldier enhancement program. To say it was torture would be an understatement and to say it changed both Jack and Gabriel would be as well.

Gabriel has gotten a lot more reserved and cold, at least towards people other than Jack, people he doesn't trust and isn't planning on trusting. The way he handled the several treatments and procedures was stoic after a couple of weeks, enduring the pain and ramifications without complaints or the showing of feelings. And maybe it was good that way – people up top noticed his iron will and persistence. The few military operations they were obliged to undergo to test results proved Gabriel's qualifications further, showing that he's more than just your regular soldier. With and without the benefits of strength and speed the enhancements provide. Gabriel's leadership qualities as well as his strategic wit are remarkable. He is remarkable. In many ways.

Jack knows this, all too well. The program was a lot harder for him and he isn't sure if he would've endured it without Gabriel and the man's support that consisted of sarcastic remarks and the occasional words of honest and sincere care. And it shaped Jack, made him more open and confident, strong-willed, proving that he has similar qualifications as Gabriel – even though the older man is still miles ahead of him. 

The two men are finally released from the program by joining Overwatch, an organization created at the behest of the United Nations, formed to fight in the Omnic Crisis with asymmetrical warfare and uncommon methods. Warfare and methods neither Reyes nor Morrison knew much about as they agreed to join – but it couldn't be much worse than the enhancement program. They knew Overwatch was going to be a strict military operation but a lot of things would be easier nevertheless – more independence, more codetermination, more leave, no twenty-four seven surveillance and most importantly no more experiments and procedures that make one question whether one will wake up with a fever, diarrhea or a death wish.

An absent and somewhat sad smile crosses Jack's features as he recalls the past, somehow feeling like he's still stuck in basic training despite the change of his body and mind – and heart. He's unsure if it's a good thing or not but he's grateful that Gabriel has been on his side for this long, now even more so than ever. The enhancement program has showed him how unpredictable and draining new organizations with secret plans and methods can be. Of course, the concept of Overwatch doesn't – shouldn't – compare to an experimental program that puts soldiers to their limits. But you never know. 

Jack is put out of the misery of his thoughts as he feels a familiar hand on his shoulder. “What you smilin' at, sitting over here all alone, guapetón?” Gabriel asks, glancing around the otherwise empty cafeteria. 

Resisting the urge to place his hand on Gabriel's as he sits down next to him, Jack sighs for a second there. “Nothing much, I'm just glad we're here and not – there anymore. Seems a lot better.”

“You fucking bet this is better. Much better. I got tired of these goddamn ten man sleeping rooms.”

Shrugging, Jack replies, “I was too distracted by the puke that shot out of my mouth for a week straight at times. And the fever. And other things. At least I didn't have an erection at random times like some of the other guys. But hey, you still gotta share a room with good old me, so you're not entirely free in that regard.”

With a bright grin, Gabriel ruffles Jack's hair. “Could be worse. Couldn't be better.”

“I told you to fuckin' stop messing up my hair. It took long enough to let it grow back. I don't get how you can still run around in that almost-buzzcut of yours,” Jack grumbles but Gabriel simply shrugs his shoulders, the grin not leaving his features. And as much as the younger of the two wants to return the grin, he doesn't for once. Instead he slowly feels heat creeping up to his cheeks and ears, scratching his neck as he thinks about Gabriel's last words. He searches for something to focus his gaze onto like he always does in situation like these that leave him vulnerable and uncomfortable but the white walls of the cafeteria aren't providing much distraction. So instead Jack's gaze wanders to his hands that are fumbling around with each other on the desk. “S-Say, Gabriel. This stuff you've been saying. A lot of the stuff you've been saying. Don't hate me 'cause I'm really dense with shit like this as you might or might not have noticed but could it be that you're … flirting with me?”

Gabriel gives Jack a look now, mild disbelief painted across his face. “You've only just noticed now? Shit, I've been pulling this for two years. You really are dense.”

“O-Oh.” Jack feels even more heat rise to cheeks and ears, his neck joining in on the fun. He forces himself to stop his hands from intertwining repeatedly, a nervous and unwanted chuckle escaping his lips. “B-But why?” 

“Are you fuckin' serious? All you've ever talked about regarding your preference were girls, girls and goddamn girls. Looking at the fact that I'm a man, I didn’t put my chances very high so I kept dropping these dumb hints until I couldn't stop anymore, calling you a damn guapetón at the same time. Shit, Jack, I can't get any more obvious than that.”

“How the hell – heck – am I supposed to know?!” Jack blurts out, louder than he wanted his words to be. He's more than glad the cafeteria is empty for once, Winston already having his fair share of bananas and peanut butter for the day. “And that word, guacamole or whatever, how am I supposed to know that as well? You haven't taught me any Spanish yet.”

Gabriel grunts, one of his hands placing itself on his forehead, fingers massaging it slowly. This blondie is starting to give him a serious headache. “Not guacamole, Jack. Guapetón. It roughly translates to – pretty boy.”

Watching Jack closely, Gabriel isn't surprised that he remains completely silent and unmoving. The younger man has always been bad at reacting to certain things ever since Gabriel got to know him, compliments and flirting and that sort of thing at the top of the list. What comes next is new though – Jack leads both of his hands to his face, burying it in them and Gabriel questions how a grown-up man whose body has been modified to inhumane levels can be this damn adorable. 

It – quite obviously – takes Jack a couple of moments to come back out of his shell, formed by his own hands. “I'm not sure how to say this,” he starts, his hands rubbing his cheeks as if he's trying to motivate himself, swallowing audibly as his gaze slowly shifts to Gabriel, “since I have little experience with this, even with girls, and I'm kind of scared that you'll punch or kill me. But would you … might, perhaps, maybe, if it pleases you – go on a date with me? We – We both have leave this weekend, right? Right? Right. And there's an amusement park close by?” Almost all of Jack's word come out as a stutter and his hands become sweatier and sweatier with every syllable he's said.

“Are you for real asking me, a grown-up fucking man, If I wanna go to a goddamn amusement park with you?” Gabriel replies, the tone of his voice so flat that it makes Jack even more nervous. He didn't think it was possible.

“I knew this was a stupid ass idea, man, fuck,” Jack sputters under his breath as he gets up, wanting nothing more than to hide in his room and if possible never come back out – the problem with his plan is that it's also Gabriel's room. Maybe there's a free closet somewhere. But to his surprise Jack is stopped in his movement, Gabriel's hand on his wrist, pulling him to sit back down.

“It's not like I disagreed, idiot. I just find the idea of two soldiers having a date in an amusement park rather … hilarious. In fact, so hilarious that I think I might just agree.” 

It's approximately seventy-six hours later – Jack kept count – that Gabriel and he are in an amusement park, about fifty kilometers away from the Overwatch Watchpoint near London. He didn't think he would feel so out of place, but he sure does, Gabriel even more so considering the look on his face, thick eyebrows raised as he takes a look around. Adding to all of that is that they're both in civilian clothing, Gabriel wearing a black hoodie and black jeans, the beanie he's been wearing for a couple of years ever present. Jack on the other hand is wearing blue jeans and a white sweater – and concern on his face. 

The amusement park is crowded with people thanks to the mild spring weather, children, teenager, their parents and other couples – scratch the other – all around. With a soft sigh Jack realizes just how idiotic it was of him to suggest a date like this. But what can he say, he's only had like, what, four dates in his life? And all of them were with girls. Girls from Indiana that loved Ferris wheels and cotton candy and shooting galleries and all that stuff a buff soldier from Los Angeles will probably just frown at. 

“So, guapetón, are you gonna buy me cotton candy or what?” Gabriel suddenly bickers from next to Jack, the slightest hint of a grin on the corners of his mouth as he puts his arm around the younger man's shoulder. 

“I would but I'm not sure if you're being serious or if you're being an ass,” Jack sighs and looks at Gabriel, who leads them further into the amusement park, through the crowd of different people that enjoy a normal day in their life. 

“One hundred percent serious. Haven't had that stuff since I was a boy.”

So there goes their first stop; cotton candy for the “super soldier” and the newly assigned leader of Overwatch. And despite the two men being soldiers, enhanced ones even, the day slowly but certainly begins to feel oddly normal and almost comfortable. The Omnic Crisis is fully unfolding all around the globe and while it's their first and foremost concern and waiting in the back of their minds, they worry about other things today. Stupid and almost trivial things like whether they should take the log flume ride or if it's too childish (they take it, of course) or if the roller coaster is a good idea after eating fish 'n chips or why it still gives them such a rush of adrenaline or if they'll ever find their way out of this goddamn labyrinth. 

Minutes pass, minutes that turn into hours quicker than either of them thought they would, and Jack and Gabriel catch their seemingly first breath since they entered the amusement park, the twilight of London's evening sky above them as they feel like they belong to the crowd rather than Overwatch. For today at least. 

“Bet you can't hit the one in the back,” Jack suddenly jokes, his hand on Gabriel's shoulder and a mocking grin on his face as he points to a shooting gallery, stuffed animals hanging all around the booth as reward. “There's gotta be a reason you always choose shotguns as your weapons and I bet it's your horrendous aim.” 

Gabriel glares at Jack with lowered eyebrows, looking almost offended. “Says the one who has requested a tactical visor for coming assignments. And yes, I do read the requisition papers properly. So, game's on – what do I get if I win?”

“A stuffed animal from the booth as well as my everlasting respect?”

Snorting, Gabriel folds his arms in front of his chest. “You can stick that respect up that little ass of yours. How about a kiss? Isn't that the plan to end your perfect little date anyways? Might as well bargain with it.” 

Amused by the soft flush already manifesting on Jack's ears, Gabriel knows that the younger man is just as thrilled by the idea as he is. Jack clears his throat and brushes his hand through the back of his blond hair, careful not to ruin the styled part of it. “Since you're so eager, fine.”

With a smug grin and a nod of his head to agree to the statement, Gabriel walks over to the booth, Jack watching from a few feet back as he talks to the owner and ends up paying five pounds for one shot. Overconfident as always, Gabriel turns around for a second there to look at Jack, lips still curled upwards. “Watch and learn, guapetón,” he mocks before turning his attention back to the several targets in front of him – Jack certain that Gabriel aims for the one that's on the far end, gaining him the largest amount of points. And a stuffed animal. And a kiss.

Jack is more than just certain that he'll lose the bet – a bet that neither of them would even call a bet since Jack knows just how superior Gabriel's shooting and sniping skills are. But he doesn't mind losing, rather the opposite, as it would provide Jack with an excuse to actually kiss the older man. A thought he's obviously played with of doing today, as cliché as it might seem, but there's – as always – a tinge of hesitation coming with that thought. 

However, a more important thing than his own thoughts is currently unfolding in front of Jack – he takes in the image of Gabriel's huge form with the plastic rifle in his hands, positioning it on his shoulders like he would with a real rifle that he's used countless times in his life already. Jack chuckles softly to himself as the older man breathes in, steadying his aim, and it's almost ridiculous how serious he's taking this, the younger one thinks, but also kind of – cute. A word Jack thought he would never associate with Gabriel Reyes.

Breathing out, Gabriel pulls the trigger. A shot so precise that it hits the dead center of the most difficult target in the back of the long booth follows and the booth owner pulls a surprised face before clapping slowly, a genuine smile crossing her aged features. Jack watches as she talks a few words with Gabriel and cuffs him in the arm to which the man just rolls his eyes. He then points at a large plush cow with a stern face, the woman happily obliging and handing Gabriel the stuffed animal. 

Gabriel returns to Jack swiftly, a victorious smile that reaches all the way up to his scarred cheeks crossing his features as he presses the huge cow into Jack's chest who accepts it with a pout. “A cow for the farmboy, what's there to pout about?”

“Oh shut the heck up,” Jack groans but makes it quite obvious he's joking, voice soft. They're silent as they walk away from the booth nevertheless; occasionally grinning at each other before Jack either hides behind the huge cow in his hands or presses it into Gabriel's face with a light-hearted laughter. 

The two men agree to sit down on a bench that's in the middle of the amusement park, the sky above them already dark, a few visible stars and the half moon as well as the park's lamps spending light. Focusing his gaze on Jack alone after he's put his arm around the other's shoulder once again, Gabriel breaks the comfortable silence. “So, what about my kiss? You're not gonna bail out on me here, are you? You lost a bet that was rigged from the start to me, I got you a freaking cow and I went on this picture-perfect date with you. I demand a reward.”

Another pout crosses Jack's features and Gabriel thinks to himself that it's probably one of his favorite expressions on the other man. “Are you ever going to stop making fun of this?” 

"Chances are very bad." 

Jack sighs – with soft relief, considering the day went better than he had hoped, feared. “But hey, we had fun, didn't we?”

"We sure did." 

A soft smile falls on Jack's face slowly but certainly, his fingers digging into the soft cushion of the plush cow, suddenly needing something to hold onto. He scoots closer and swallows, inaudibly so for once, as he switches his gaze from the crowd and onto Gabriel, mildly surprised that he has all of the other's attention already. One of Jack's hands leaves the security of the cow's softness and gingerly reaches for Gabriel face and Jack breathes in, taken back by the rough but warm feeling of the older man's skin under his fingertips. Without even thinking about it because it feels just so natural, Jack lets his touch travel, brushing over the surprisingly soft beard and Gabriel's cheek, over the scars remaining there forever before his thumb presses against Gabriel's full lower lip and Jack feels like he's about to collapse, his head spinning and his heart beating fast, so fast that he feels like it's about to escape from his chest. 

“Go for it,” Gabriel huffs with a single quiet laughter, sensing as well as seeing the turmoil going on inside of Jack, whose blue eyes switch between Gabriel's dark-brown ones and his lips rapidly. 

Jack then does as he was told – going for it. With lingering hesitation he closes the distance between his and Gabriel's face, nose pressing against nose on accident for a second there, causing both of them to laugh softly before lips connect, finally. 

It's a mere heartbeat later that Gabriel's one hand tightens on Jack's shoulder while the other reaches for his neck, so warm and gentle that Jack already feels like melting. Gabriel's hand soon creates a better angle for both of them, their lips moving against one another, Jack's uncertain and soft while Gabriel's are more eager, determined. And for once both of them feel the heat rising to their cheeks, Gabriel watching Jack's knitted eyebrows and his closed eyes before he closes his own, enjoying what he's longed for longer than he might realize or admit. 

They don't last much longer, breathlessness kicking in, even for two enhanced soldiers. Slowly opening their eyes but not removing their hands from the other's body, they smile at each other. Not a wide one, but a warm and knowing one. “Didn't think you'd have the guts to do it. Even though I kinda forced you to.” 

Jack chuckles, unable to keep his thumb still that caresses over the light deformations on Gabriel's cheek. “What can I say, cows are my weak spot.”

“They are?”

“No, you dumbass.” 

It's their first kiss – something utterly normal happening on an equally as normal day in the lives of two men that are anything but normal, as time showed and would further show.

 

* * *

 

With a long yawn Gabriel half-heartedly points at the sea outside, his eyes focusing on Jack as they open back up.

Jack frowns. “Mar. C'mon Gabe, give me something that's harder,” he sighs with mild annoyance as he trails his fingers down Gabriel's naked upper arm and the muscles there. The hour is late as proven by the night sky and its stars outside, Gibraltar's coast providing a beautiful view even in the dark. Jack's and Gabriel's date – they don't call it that but they don't know what else to call it – was about a month ago, the majority of their time after it spent with meetings and missions alike, together and alone, some with other members of Overwatch's merry band and some without them, all of it shaping the organization in different ways. 

It's an unusually quiet and early night today however, both men exhausted from a successful mission to push an Omnic attack back and more than happy that there's nothing on the board for tomorrow. Not yet anyway. So now Jack and Gabriel enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasts, laying next to each other in Gabriel's bed because it's the one right below the wide window – and because the older of the two can be a bitch about many things, trivial things, including which bed to use. Luckily the beds Overwatch provides for them are wider than the horrible ones they had during army and during the enhancement program but not wide enough for both of them to spread out in it at the same time. Not that they mind, currently facing each other sideway with legs intertwined and chests pressed against each other, Jack wearing a tight black shirt and blue boxershorts while Gabriel is only in his black boxers. 

A tired grin plays around the corners of Gabriel's lips, holding back an innuendo about giving Jack something that's harder. Instead he reaches out and places his hand on Jack's ear, softly stroking it's back with his thumb, rewarded with a soft shiver from the younger man. “Oreja,” Jack murmurs.

Gabriel nods with approval before his hand wanders south, stopping on Jack's upper leg, caressing it and although a soft sigh filled with obvious pleasure leaves Jack, he frowns again. “Pierna. C'mon, this isn't hard either, fucking vocabularies. You're just being a tease.” 

“Che, I'm a tease, maybe, but you know what I'm not? A fuckin' Spanish teacher. And aside, you're too much of a distraction dressed in almost nothing,” Gabriel growls, leaning even closer so he could press his mouth against the skin of Jack's neck, placing sloppy kisses there. His hands follow soon, greedily placing them on either of Jack's legs to roll him onto his back, his fingers afterwards trailing to his hips. 

Gabriel doesn't cease the kisses as he forces his broad body further between Jack's legs, his mouth travelling along the younger man's jawline, to his heated cheeks and his burning ears, biting his earlobe teasingly. Jack's fingers are on the back of Gabriel's head soon enough, forcing it into position so their lips collide, creating a messy, almost clumsy kiss they both groan into as Jack presses his hips upwards and drags his ragged nails across Gabriel's naked back. 

The kiss continues, growing more passionate as their tongues join in, entangled and pressing against one another. Gabriel uses the advantageous position of his hands to slip under Jack's black shirt, pressing his fingers into the warm skin of the other's hips, who reacts to the touch with a breathy groan. It's distraction enough for Gabriel to slip his tongue into Jack's oral cavity, exploring the warm wetness there, accompanied by a low hum from the younger man's side, approving of the dirty method in his very own way. 

What follows next takes Gabriel by surprise. Jack switches their position with little to no effort, using his weight that is just a little below Gabriel's to flip them around, effectively making Jack straddle Gabriel, although he breaks the kiss. But the older man doesn't mind – and who would mind a gorgeous blonde sitting on your lap, styled hair slightly messy, mouth parted and glistening wet with remains of saliva, bright blue eyes darkened and half-lidded, chest heaving. Sucking in breath as Jack undresses the black shirt covering his upper body, Gabriel bites down on his lower lip before muttering, “Te deseo, guapetón,” while running his hands that are still on Jack's hips up his abdomen and chest, his dark eyes fully taking in what's presented him. 

Jack simply growls in the back of his throat, hating how Gabriel's deep and rough voice compliments his raw Spanish accent, and it makes Jack's skin shiver in the best ways possible even though he has little to no idea what the other is saying – not yet anyways. Discarding his thoughts, Jack leans down, bringing his chest against Gabriel's once more, lips trading lazy kisses while the soft curve of Jack's ass rubs against the growing bulge trapped in the confines of Gabriel's underwear. 

While Gabriel's mouth and teeth are busy trading fleeting kisses and teasing bites with Jack's, his hands find their way back on the younger man's slightly moving hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the heated and sensitive skin there before fingers moving over Jack's broad back, short fingernails leaving trails that are caressed over swiftly. 

“Gabe,” Jack rasps, trying to let the other's name sound stern as possible as it stumbles from his swollen lips but failing horribly, even more so as a long-drawn moan follows the single word. Said moan is caused by Gabriel's hands that have slipped under the waistband of Jack's boxers, cupping his ass into those large hands of his. And Jack hates how much he loves and craves the older man's touches, especially since he hasn't felt them in quite some time, careless evenings like this one a rarity. Warm hands are all over Jack's body it seems, knowing just where to tease and touch, full wet lips sucking on his oversensitive neck with relentless hunger and Jack's breath catches in the back of his throat, causing him to whimper as his hips jerk back and forth without control, desperate to feel friction. “Gabe, Gabriel,” Jack voices, a mere whisper into Gabriel's ear, almost a plea. 

Hearing his name like this, repeated like a chant into his ear, by Jack's voice so hungry and willing for him no less, sends a shudder down Gabriel's spine and into his aching erection. With an almost feral growl he squeezes Jack's small ass that seems to fit into his hands oh so perfectly while also pressing his dick up against Jack's behind, not holding back – unable to. With something similar to a groan coming from the back of his throat, Gabriel moves his hands out of Jack's underwear and onto its waistband, pulling it down the younger man's muscular thighs and legs, Jack lifting one leg and then the other to assist with the undressing. 

A soft sigh of relief leaves Jack's mouth, his full-on erection finally released from its confinement. He returns the favor to Gabriel, a sly grin on his face as the older man eagerly lifts his hips off the bed so Jack could swiftly remove the black shorts. “You seem quite impatient,” Jack murmurs as he drops the piece of clothing to the ones already scattered on the ground next to the bed. 

“How can I not be,” Gabriel starts, deep voice hoarse, “with you rubbing that fine little ass of yours against me like that. And you dare calling me a tease, Jack?” 

Jack doesn't reply verbally but with a knowing smile. He keeps it up as he scoots backwards on Gabriel's lap slightly, grinding his cock against the older man's and enjoying the feeling as well as the reaction he earns with it. Gabriel's mouth opens, sucking air in while his eyes close, slowly, a faint flush visible on his dark skin and they both shudder in unison. 

It's Gabriel who reaches for the bottle of lube that one of them threw under the bed carelessly after their last time and he almost breaks his neck doing so, careful not to throw Jack off his lap. Before he can do anything further, Jack snatches the bottle out of his grasp and opens it himself – and while Gabriel wants to protest, he decides not to, watching Jack with anticipation and restless fingers that hover over the younger man's warm thighs. 

Discarding the bottle back onto the floor after pouring some of its content onto his right hand, Jack warms the cold and slick substance between his fingers before leading them to his entrance. He releases a held-back jerk of his hips as well as a delicate moan as he slips one finger into himself with ease. And although he wants to close his eyes he keeps them open, the entranced gaze Gabriel gives him too good to miss out on. The older man doesn't lay still for long though, his right hand wrapping around his own and Jack's cock and pressing them together, stroking them just fast enough to drive the two of them even hungrier, but too slow to do them any good. 

Jack adds a second finger soon enough, feeling that he's the one growing impatient now, scissoring them and huffing at the feeling. His hips snap forward into the almost unbearable yet comfortable warmth of Gabriel's hands on their own accord and it makes Jack's face burn even more than it already does, so greedy for more that he's unable to control his own body. He removes his fingers from his hole and gives Gabriel a little nod of approval that turns into multiple. 

Gabriel lets go off their erections and for once he's the one to bite down on his lower lip. His mind is too distracted to form a coherent thought, watching as Jack lifts himself just enough to guide Gabriel's cock against his entrance, slowly sinking down on the swollen tip and both of them moan, Gabriel's with lust darkened eyes blinking a few times in an attempt to keep them open. He growls as Jack's hands run over his abdominal muscles and his chest for leverage, taking in more and more of Gabriel's cock who in return places his hands on Jack's hips, helping him to keep steady.

The movements of Jack's hips become more frantic soon and a whimper-turned-moan leaves his mouth, a coy half-grin playing around his flushed features, light blue eyes darkened and clouded with lust. “It's all in,” he huffs out, rolling his hips gently, shuddering when Gabriel's tip brushes against his sweet spot lightly, feeling so full. 

“¿Te gusta eso, guapetón?“ Gabriel breathes out, eyes refusing to move away from Jack's body; small droplets of sweat running from his neck all the way down to his chest and muscular abdomen, the curve of his back bending forward almost elegantly while his cock is waiting desperately for attention, reddened tip glistening already. And Gabriel complies to the silent request, wrapping his hand around the younger man's erection while keeping the other on Jack's hip, who gifts Gabriel with a moan of approval.

The image presenting to Gabriel fades though, Jack leaning down to cup Gabriel's face into his hands. “I have no idea what the fuck you are saying,” the younger man growls, his hips starting to move up and down with unforgiving fervor, “but it's so fucking hot,” he continues and a horribly needy whimper follow Jack's words. He presses his lips against the corners of Gabriel's mouth, peppering it and his burning face with messy kisses, soft and loud sounds in equal leaving his mouth as Gabriel adjusts the strokes on Jack's cock to the movement of his hips.

“I asked if you like it,” Gabriel groans and slowly starts to roll his hips as well, reveling in the sensation of the tight warmth surrounding his cock. 

“Yes,” Jack whimpers, burying his head in the crook of Gabriel's neck, Jack slowly but certainly losing control of the rhythm he had established with his hips, now rocking back and forth uncontrollably. “Y-Yes,” he repeats as he finds the perfect angle that hits his prostate over and over again, overstimulation kicking in thanks to the overwhelming feeling of Gabriel inside of him, of Gabriel's hand wrapped so tightly around his aching cock, of Gabriel's musky scent that's so present as of right now and Jack doesn't even notice how he keeps repeating the word Yes as he shudders through his orgasm, Gabriel's hand unrelenting as it keeps stroking him. 

The warm and sticky wetness of Jack's orgasm on his fingers, the younger man's breath in his neck and the needy voice in Gabriel's ear make him rasp out a single but all saying Fuck. He slides his eyes shut and speeds his thrusts up, enjoying the warm breath in his neck and the even warmer tightness around his cock as Jack's hole contracts slowly but certainly, relaxing. It sends Gabriel's body on edge or rather over it, releasing into Jack and digging the fingernails of the hand that is still on Jack's shaking hips into it, Gabriel breathing heavily. 

They stay like this for a while, catching their breath, too tired and unwilling to move. It's Jack who does the first step, obviously, as Gabriel is more or less trapped beneath him. He rolls off the older man, almost falling off the rather small bed which causes both of them to laugh softly. 

Gabriel reaches for the tissues on his nightstand, taking two – one for him while giving the other to Jack.

The afterglow's silence is comfortable and after a couple of moments the two men face each other sideways once more, both of them returning a tired smile. 

“Gabe?”

“Hm?” Gabriel hums, face content. 

“How do you say I love you in Spanish?”

Gabriel's closed eyes open slowly, half-lidded and tired but a smile graces his features, Jack's soft blue eyes wide and lips sucked into his mouth. “Te amo,” Gabriel says, “You have to say: Te amo también. Means I love you, too.”

Jack's lips surface again, turning into a wide smile. “Te amo también.”

“Te amo mucho, pendejo.” 

It's the first time they confess their love to each other. And certainly not the last.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel isn't sure what makes his eyes snap open with panic, the smoke forcing its way into his lungs and under his eyelids, the unbearable heat surrounding him and slowly eating him alive or the indescribable pain in his legs.

His heart is beating fast, faster than it should and probably faster than it ever will again. He tries to look around but his field of vision is limited due to the angry flames and the rubble all around him but it's enough to spot the cause of this pitiful and inescapable disaster – Jack. John. Strike-Commander Morrison. The man that caused all of this. 

Gabriel knows it's a lie. Just like he knows that he loves Jack unconditionally; bright blue eyes and even brighter smile the seemingly only thing Gabriel needs to lift his spirits, to make the terrible mood that had become ever present in the past year go away. 

But Gabriel also knows that he's tried to resist his hatred for Jack, blossomed deep inside of him, for too long. John Morrison was everything that went wrong with Gabriel's life, putting trust in people just to have them stab him in the face and overlook him. 

So now Gabriel and Jack are lying on the ground in Overwatch's Swiss headquarters, the facility's walls breaking down just like their relationship slowly did in the past months and maybe even years. It feels like they were simply alive to kill time and point fingers at each other like it was some goddamn contest. 

This isn't how it should end. And maybe it shouldn't end at all, Gabriel thinks, but this decision is out of his reach now. Jack is out of reach, both of them trapped under the collapsed ceiling with Jack unconscious – and Gabriel can feel himself fade back into the oh so soothing darkness as well. 

It’s the first time they die. But not the last.

 

* * *

 

The feeling of kneeling on the ground with a bullet wound or two in his side has become oddly familiar to Jack – no – Soldier: 76 – in the past years and whereas he wishes it wasn't so, it certainly is. Both of his hands are holding his bleeding and aching side, jacket ruined once more, and this time 76 is trapped in a particularly bad situation. Behind him are ten Talon grunts, dragging him all the way from the outskirts of an abandoned Overwatch facility into its inside. Presenting in front him now is a tall figure dressed in black, long coat, fingers that are accompanied by long claws resting at his sides with patience. Soldier: 76 is unable to see the figure's face, covered by a crude white mask that has scratches on its surface.

“Who shot him?” the man – now obvious that it is one – asks. The guy's gravelly and distorted voice sends a shiver down 76's spine. 

“Me, sir,” a Talon grunt answers from behind Soldier: 76 and before he can even guess what the point is, the tall man waves the Talon member to step closer to which he obeys. Without hesitation the masked man pulls out a shotgun from the inside of his long coat, pulling the trigger in an instant and splattering the grunt's brain across the floor. The obviously dead body drops next to 76 and he's ever so grateful for the security of his mask and visor, eyes wide and mouth agape behind them. 

Solder: 76 has seen ruthlessness and cold-heartedness alike in his life and in the life before this one but what just unfolded in front of his eyes still makes his stomach turn over. And maybe it has to do with the possibility that the hooded man won't treat 76 any gentler than the unmoving corpse next to him. “I told you idiots not to shoot him,” he growls from beneath his mask and discards the single shotgun onto the dead body carelessly. 

“But, s-sir,” another Talon soldier begins, “we lost three men to him.”

The man snarls, derogatory so. “Make it four. And an order is a fucking order. You better follow it precisely you sorry sacks of shit. Give me his weapon,” he demands and a grunt obeys, Soldier: 76 watching with a sideway glance as he gives the pulse rifle to the tall man. “Now leave. Look for the files you were told about in the briefing. Move it.”

Doing as they are being told, 76 hears the footsteps of the Talon group becoming more distant until the noises fade completely. “So, you stole this fine little weapon, eh? A little weird that a thief wants to carry out justice.”

Unimpressed by the other's mockery, 76 just huffs. “Says you, who shoots his own soldier point-blank in the face. A terrorist and a scumbag. Who even are you?” 

“Oh, but I am no terrorist, just a simple mercenary. They call me Reaper and I've found quite a liking to that name. Just like you seem to have found a liking for the name of Soldier: 76 as well as this stupid jacket, John Morrison.”

Soldier: 76 scoffs. “I don't know who that is.”

“Really now?” Reaper replies, an eerie laughter following his words. He sits down on a crate in front of 76, leaning the pulse rifle against it. Reaper's hands reach out then, his talons making a dull noise against the metal of Soldier: 76's mask as he cups the vigilante's chin. “You don't know John Morrison, the devoted ex-commander of Overwatch, who has a few statues standing proudly in America? He doesn't deserve them but hey, who am I to judge that?” 

“He's dead, isn't he? Who cares about another goddamn fallen soldier?” 76 growls and lets one of his hands wander from his aching side to slap Reaper's arm away, letting out a confused sound as he passes through something akin to smoke. 

Another grim laughter leaves Reaper's mouth. “Oh Jack, that was adorable,” he says and lifts 76's chin so they are looking at each other's eyes indirectly, Reaper then taking his hand back to himself. “Now show me your face.”

Scared of the consequences that might follow his insubordination and even more scared of whoever – whatever – Reaper truly is and what he's capable of, Soldier: 76 complies, his bloodied gloves careful as he removes his visor and mouthpiece. His face is revealed now, aged and graced with a wide scar, bleeding from his side as he's on his knees in front of a madman who is quiet, observing almost. 

What follows is beyond Soldier: 76's understanding. Reaper removes the heavy glove on his right hand, holding it in his other, while his right index-finger starts to trail over the long scar across 76's forehead and nose. The vigilante shuts his eyes and flinches at the motion, expecting some kind of torture method but instead the touch is delicate, gentle almost. 

Slow as he opens his eyes back up, 76 watches Reaper's hand. Its skin color is dark and distorted with light, almost faded scars as well as white skin pigmentation and some skin parts that even seem – rotten? He then watches as Reaper trails his thumb instead of his index-finger over the scar crossing 76's lips and he notices just how cold the odd man's skin feels against his. “How do you know who I am?” Soldier: 76 finally asks, voice stern. 

“I'm raiding these facilities, just like you do at times. But unlike you I'm not looking for weapons and equipment but for information. Information on the identities and whereabouts of the Overwatch scum that's left in the world. Vigilantes, mercenaries, soldiers, whatever they may have become, they deserve death. One of the Talon idiots told me about you, another vigilante. But you aren't like the others. You do surgical, clean work. A professional as the news said. A perfect fit for our perfect little John Morrison,” Reaper explains, the calmness in his voice uncomforting. “And that little scar,” he continues, thumb pressing against 76's lips, “I did that to you when we fought after you got promoted and I got overlooked. Like it happened to me so many times,” Reaper scoffs. “Pathetic.”

Soldier: 76's bright blue eyes widen slowly and he feels nauseous, feels like scrambling away from Reaper but he can't, frozen with shock; he shakes his head slowly and with disbelief and continues to do so even when Reaper's other hand drops his glove to the ground, reaching for his mask to remove it. What surfaces under the hood is Gabriel Reyes' face, in a way at least, covered in the same old scars and as well as the odd pigmentation his hand shows. The man's beard is unruly and covered in soft gray hairs, mouth a flat line and Soldier: 76 isn't sure what he sees in these dark but familiar eyes; hatred, pity or something else entirely. 

“Gabriel,” 76 whispers and the corners of Gabriel's – Reaper's – whoever's – lips twitch upward for a mere heartbeat as he leans down further, almost closing the distance between their faces.

“No,” Reaper growls and forces his lips against Soldier: 76's, the older man kissing the younger like he's starving, hungry and rough with teeth digging into 76's lower lip hard enough to draw blood within seconds. 

The kiss isn't tender or loving or anything one might consider a kiss to be - it feels more like opening old scars and yet 76 can't help but lean into it.

Lips part and all that remains is the taste of iron and copper on both Soldier: 76's and Reaper's lips. “I will kill you,” Reaper whispers against 76's mouth, breath shallow and voice raw. “I will come for you, break you down, finish what I should've ended before it even started. I will do all of these sweet little things to you once I'm done with the rest of Overwatch and its sad little story. No one else will kill you or as much as touch you until then and if they do, I will make them pay. You have a bargain with death, Jack. I hope you enjoy and appreciate it as much as I do.” 

And before Soldier: 76 can catch a breath, can protest, can fathom what just happened, Reaper is gone. What's left is a cloud of black smoke that lingers in front of 76 and the memory of Reaper's lips against his own. 

A memory. Just like it was in the past years, the years in which Soldier: 76 – John Morrison – learned to live without Gabriel Reyes. 

It's the first time Soldier: 76 and Reaper meet, kiss – and swear that either of them will face death a second time.

**Author's Note:**

> "Ya quisieras" = You wish  
> "guapetón" = pretty boy (I found out it has a lot of meanings, but I was aiming for this one ... also thanks to a lovely person on twitter for suggesting me that word!!)  
> "Te deseo" = I want you  
> "Te amo mucho, pendejo" = I love you so much, idiot
> 
> Thanks for reading again!


End file.
